Spikey Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
by Gunblade Queen
Summary: Harry Potter with Buffy characters. Features characters from Seasons 1-6.
1. The Vamp Who Lived

Title: Spikey Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Author: Flick

E-Mail: FinalFantasyFlick@yahoo.com

Summary: Harry Potter with Buffy characters.

Dedication: Hilary for inflicting her love of Spike on me and encouraging me to write...stuff, Sarah who encouraged me to actually pick up a book and read it from start to finish and to everyone who gave me positive feedback for 'A Fluffy Interlude'.

Chapter One

The Vamp Who Lived

Andrew, Warren and Johnathan always believed themselves to be normal. Indeed, despite their somewhat bizarre behaviour at times, they certainly considered themselves more normal than some of the people they knew. They preferred to sit in Warren's basement reading comic books and sometimes playing with their action figures. They, at this point in their lives, wanted nothing to do with some of the strange people who shared their neighbourhood of Sunnydale.

Such a person was Rupert Giles who, on this evening, was taking an unusually late walk through the streets near the house where the three youths lived. However, considering Rupert's normal behaviour, such a late walk was by no means unusual. Neither was the fact that he was not alone tonight. Sat beside the garage of Warren's house was a small rat who seemed to be looking directly at him. Rupert stopped in his tracks to look at the tiny pair of eyes glinting in the moonlight as they fixed themselves in a locked gaze on him. He smiled as if this rat were an old friend of his.

"I might have known you'd be here....Professor Rosenberg" he said, not even trying to lower his voice as he spoke to the rat. Within a soft puff of white smoke, a young red haired woman was now stood where the rat had been. "Hey, Giles" she answered, her soft voice sounding more like a whisper as she approached the older man.

The two of them stood in a moment's silence, Giles looking up at the only lit window of Warren's house. "It's true, isn't it?" the young woman broke the silence filling the air. "The rumours. They're all true."

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Willow" Giles replied, removing his glasses for a minute to expose the signs of age beneath each of his eyes. "Both the good ones...and the bad."

Willow bit her lip before speaking again. It all seemed like so much to take in. How could so much have happened in such short time? "And...the vampire?" she asked almost hesitantly.

"Anya is bringing him" Giles' soft english accent responded.

"Is that such a good idea? Anya isn't exactly the most delicate of people." Willow cocked her head to express her uneasiness regarding Rupert's choice of protagonists in the night's events.

"I hold Anya with the same level of trust that I hold you, Professor Rosenberg."

No sooner had he said this but a bright white light hit the two of them from the starlit sky above them. Willow was convinced she could hear the faint sound of a motorised engine growing louder and louder but before she could convince herself that it was nothing but a passing plane, the motorbike was swooping down in it's descent from the sky and hit the road rather bumpily in front of the witch.

The blonde haired rider removed her goggles to reveal a rather sooty face which beamed a smile upon seeing her two friends. "Willow. Giles." she greeted them both as she hoisted herself off the bike. Slumped back on the back seat was a shirtless blond male who seemed to be asleep and not voluntarily. His face was covered in bruises and there was what seemed to be a deep wound on his chest just about where his heart should be. "He was like that when I found him" Anya explained as she and Willow helped him off the bike. "There was nothing left of the other two but dust."

Willow paused for a moment. So...it was true. They were both gone and now he was left all alone.

"It won't be forever, Willow" Rupert spoke, as if reading her thoughts just by the look on her face. "He'll be back with us before you know it."

And so, the two women left him slumped in the doorway of Warren's house, Giles kneeling over his unconscious form. "Farewell, Spikey Potter. The vamp who lived."

Next to him, he placed a letter addressed to Warren from he, Rupert Giles, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Slaying and Vampirism.


	2. The Vanishing Girls

  
Title: Spikey Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Author: Flick

E-Mail: FinalFantasyFlick@yahoo.com

Summary: Harry Potter with Buffy characters.

Dedication: Hilary for inflicting her love of Spike on me and encouraging me to write...stuff, Sarah who encouraged me to actually pick up a book and read it from start to finish and to everyone who gave me positive feedback for 'A Fluffy Interlude'.

Chapter Two

The Vanishing Girls

Eleven months had passed since that night. Spikey's wounds had already healed with the exception of a small scar where the cut in his heart had been. He was now living in a small cupboard under Warren's stairs. The three of them hadn't exactly been overjoyed at being burdened with a vampire but it was one thing that most other people didn't have, so his main purpose in life was being bragged about. Not only that but they now had someone to perform the tasks most befitting him such as cleaning up the basement, polishing action figures and making them look good whenever the three of them went out together. That morning, Spike knew, was going to be particularly difficult. It was Jonathan's birthday. This had been made clear to Spike by the fact that he'd been the one who had to cut up the birthday cake that Andrew had baked which was in the shape of Darth Vader's helmet. He of course had been denied any helpings of it and wasn't even allowed some of the beer that he'd been forced to steal from Warren's dad's fridge upstairs. Warren's parents were, of course, oblivious to the fact that they had a vampire living in their house. To them, he was just the helpful guy that passed out the brooms from the cupboard whenever they were needed.

And so, tonight, for Jonathan's birthday treat, The Trio plus One were heading out to the Bronze. The Bronze was a nightclub situated in Sunnydale but was often referred to as 'The Vending Machine' by the other vampires in Sunnydale. Spike, miserable that he probably wouldn't get to see much action tonight if he was captain of the geek patrol, simply walked on ahead while The Trio fell behind and engaged in what appeared to be quite a heated argument.

"Look, Captain Kirk will ALWAYS be the best! Picard was too bald and Janeaway was just all breasts!" Warren protested.

"I liked Janeaway..." Andrew said to the two of them but was heard by neither.

"Picard was cool. Remember that bit in Insurrection when he got all pissed off and wouldn't blow up the Enterprise? That was cool, man! Kirk never did anything like that!" Jonathan stepped in between the two to present his argument.

"That's because Kirk never lost his temper, dumbass! He's like...the perfect Captain!" Warren's breathing rate was starting to grow more rapid as he spoke.

"Janeaway was cool..." Andrew said to himself but again was heard by nobody.

"Kirk was too perfect! That's why he's such a lame Captain! Everything was always fixed by the end of the show and it was boring!" Warren's face was now inches away from Jonathan's.

"Hey...Hey...FELLAS!" Spike called back from the entrance to The Bronze where he had been standing, smoking a cigarette quietly while the whole argument broke out. "Can't we leave the dorkdom debate until later?"

"He's right" Warren relaxed his shoulders a little, walking ahead to catch up with Spike and enter the nightclub. "Bring on the drinks and chicks, chicks, chicks..." he said, attempting to walk as smoothly as possible into the main dancefloor of the Bronze. Spike decided at this point to keep quiet about the fact that his flies were undone. Jonathan followed him closely inside.

"Janeaway had nice thighs..." Andrew said to himself before breaking into a run and entering the club along with the other three.

The beat of the music was heavy in the Bronze tonight. This suited Spike perfectly. Another rock ballad and he was positive he'd feel even more miserable than he already did. He didn't remember much about being taken away from the life he had once happily led but he remembered enough to know that it was better than babysitting the three Stooges. He remembered Darla. Blond. Sexy. Evil. And then there was Drusilla. The raven-haired Princess that he had once served as her most loyal and faithful knight. He found a corner in The Bronze to stand alone in while he paused for thought. Staring at each and every one of those girls dancing on the floor, he tried to think which one of them Dru would have picked out for him. The one in the pink top, dancing only to get attention? The one in the short red number perhaps that was looking bored as some nerd was chatting her up. Yes, she would be the one. Spike knew the routine. Waltz over with his charming cockney accent, before entering a give-or-take relationship. She would give him all the blood he wanted. And he would take her life. 

"Hey Spike, wake up, will ya?" Warren smacked him hard on the arm to snap him out of this daydream. "Go get us some drinks, will you? Jonathan's getting lucky!" he pointed out Jonathan who, little to Spike's surprise was the short guy attempting to chat up the young red dressed girl.

"Johnathan'll be lucky alright..." Spike grumbled to himself as he dodged dancers and approached the bar. "She might only laugh at him for ten minutes."

"So...er...do you live in Sunnydale?" the girl asked, her eyes darting around the dancefloor as if in search of an escape route. "Yeah, my friends and I live in..."

"...one big bastard of a house, right John?" Spike showed up to save both Jonathan and the girl another minute of torture. Instead of the girl's eyes lighting up with excitement at the thought of someone more interesting and more attractive, she just stood staring at Spike's face as if there was something horrible crawling over it. Jonathan froze too, instantly pointing at his own face and stuttering. 

"L-L-Lumps...you have lumps, Spike, oh my god, you are Mr Lumpy...." he managed out before making a hasty getaway to where Andrew and Warren were both stood, each wearing a similar mask of surprise.

Spike shrugged. The Trio. Always rushing off whenever an attractive man showed up on the scene. But the frozen look of terror on the girl's face told him that something was seriously wrong. Reaching up with his only free hand, he ran his fingers over his face....over the lumps...over the fangs. Then he stared at his own fingers. His fingernails now looked more like daggers. 

"Is it the accent what bothers you?" he asked, trying his best to smile.

Her scream was the first. Followed by another. Before anyone could say 'vampire', the entire club was emptied in a stampede of screaming youths and bartenders.

"That DOES IT!" Warren yelled once they were back at the basement. It wasn't exactly much of a walk home. Mainly an all out assault against Spikey by the three of them with Andrew occasionally bringing up the topic of Captain Janeaway again.

"From now on" Warren continued "You're going to stay here, in the basement and organise our comics! We want Batman issue 1 to be at the beginning and I want them all in alpha-numerical order ending with Zushuman issue nine hundred and ninety nine!"

Slamming the basement door behind him, he faced the other two members of The Trio who had been listening. "Wanna go check out free cable porn?" Andrew asked. After much deliberation from the other two, he finally got an answer.

"Sure."

Back down in the basement, Spike looked around at the table covered with comics and the piles of comics surrounding him. He'd been planning to watch Passions in the afternoon. But oh no, Mr Warren decided to suffer a sudden and unexpected relapse of idiocy. 

"Son. Of. A. BITCH!!!"

Using all his strength, Spike launched himself at the table, tipping both it and the comics onto the floor. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, it eventually dawned upon him that, despite being a fully abled vampire with the ability to suck all three of the Trekking gits dry...right now he had little choice but to comply. Picking up Batman issue 1, he started with his work.

  



	3. The Letters from Someone

  
Title: Spikey Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Author: Flick

E-Mail: FinalFantasyFlick@yahoo.com

Summary: Harry Potter with Buffy characters.

Dedication: Hilary for inflicting her love of Spike on me and encouraging me to write...stuff, Sarah who encouraged me to actually pick up a book and read it from start to finish and to everyone who gave me positive feedback for 'A Fluffy Interlude'.

Chapter Three

The Letters from Someone

For days, Spike was left to his own devices in the basement organising the Trio's comic collections. Whenever he was interrupted, it was only because Warren needed Spike to do something else such as taking the garbage out (which he refused to do in broad daylight), fetching and sorting the mail and putting up a Spiderman poster in Andrew's corner of the basement while he watched and insisted that it be level with his Star Wars poster.

It was only when Spike was left alone that he felt truly happy. He'd think of the times he spent with Dru and Darla. He'd daydream about them turning up in the basement and ripping Warren's throat out and eating it before rescuing him from this afterlife of slavery. He sat alone and thought about this one morning whilst playing with his only given toy - a stormtrooper with a missing head. The familiar sounding clunk of the letterbox told Spike that it was time to fetch the mail. Warren ordered him to do this daily whether or not he needed reminding of his duties within the basement. Tossing his stormtrooper to one side, Spike pushed himself up off his chair and headed towards the front door.

He came back a few moments later with a pile of envelopes in his hand. 

"Let's see..." he started, shuffling through the mail. 

"Junk mail for Jonathan.." he tossed a few letters and leaflets over to where Jonathan was sat. 

"Wanker's Weekly for Warren..." he chucked over what looked like a science fiction related magazine to Warren who treated Spike to one of his more deadly stares.

"Nothing for Andrew because nobody likes him..." Andrew shrugged as if in agreement and went back to the computer he was sat at.

Spike was left with one envelope in his hand. What made him pause at that point was the fact that he was holding a letter in his hand that was for him. Nobody ever wrote to him because nobody outside of the basement knew him. Who could be writing to him? He could have discarded it as a typing error but there it was, clear as what he remembered day to look like. 

__

Mr Spikey Potter,

The Cupboard Under The Stairs,

Warren's House,

Sunnydale

Jonathan was the first person to notice the unusual silence surrounding Spike. Then he saw the letter. Before Spike could even bite the envelope open, Jonathan had seized it from him. "Guys! Guys! Spike's got a letter!" he cried, causing the others to huddle around him and examine the letter as if he'd just unearthed a bomb. 

"Oi! You bloody sod, that's MINE!" Spike tried to push the three of them off his letter but they kept passing it around in a circle to get a look at it. "It's mine. I don't think it was addressed to the three little gits in Warren's basement."

"Who'd be writing to YOU?" Warren asked, still keeping his deadly stare fixed on Spike. It was then that he looked on the back of the envelope to try and determine who had sent it and from where. Spike didn't see what was written on the back but he knew it must have been something bad because Warren had frozen to the spot where he stood. Jonathan and Andrew hurried over and each exchanged worried glances before all three of them stared at Spike.

"What?" he asked, his face displaying nothing but puzzlement. 

Pushing Spike out of the way, Warren ran up the stairs of the basement and to his front door. Throwing it open, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever it was who'd delivered the letter, all he saw was a bat flying off into the distance. Normally he would have thought nothing of this...but it was nine o'clock in the morning.

For days this continued. Mysterious letters would arrive addressed to Spikey but before he could catch and read any of them, Warren would always seize them and rip them up into pieces. Spikey would often sit alone in his cupboard under the stairs and just wish to himself that he could have just one of those letters to read to himself. It was during one of those thinking sessions that he heard the sound of an electric drill. Hopping off his bed and opening the cupboard door just a fraction, he saw Warren drilling something to the front door. Andrew was stood next to him, asking what he was doing.

"This, my friend, is a letter-proof letterbox. We won't be getting any more letters from that place now that we have one of these."

"But...if it's a letter-proof letterbox...shouldn't it just be called a box?" Andrew asked, studying the metal plate, which Warren had drilled over their letterbox.

Ignoring the remark but eager to show off his work, Warren opened the door to show how not even the heaviest of parcels could penetrate his letterbox. Before this however, the most unusual sight greeted him. Hanging from every roof of every house in the street as well as on the television aerials was the biggest flock of bats both he or Andrew had ever seen. They were all just hanging there, watching the two of them as if in anticipation for something. It is doubtful though, that they were anticipating Warren ducking back inside and slamming the door shut behind him.

Back inside Warren's house, Spikey slowly closed the cupboard door again. He'd seen the bats, but knew that as a vampire he couldn't go outside and see them. Although he was surprised that they were out there in broad daylight.

Sunday arrived. The one day of the week where there was no post. This made Spikey feel even more miserable than he already did. As he passed around everyone's supper, he couldn't help but notice the smug look on Warren's face. "Spiteful git" Spikey muttered under his breath as he deliberately slopped a bit of butter down Warren's X-Men t-shirt.

"Great day, Sunday..." Warren started. Spikey rolled his eyes. It wasn't enough that he'd taken all his post away, now he was going to brag about it. "Why is that?" he asked. Jonathan shrugged. Andrew said nothing as he was too engulfed in the Star Trek triple bill shown on Sunday evenings.

'Because everyone's in church so there's only me left around to tell you what a bunch of stupid pricks you all are?' Spikey thought to himself but said something completely different. "Because there's no post on Sunday."

Before Warren could rise to the bait of agreeing with him and rubbing the fact in further, Spikey frowned and started to look around him. At first he thought he'd imagined it but the growing looks of shock on the others' faces told him that what was happening was very real. The house was shaking. Slowly at first then faster and faster until Jonathan hid behind the sofa and Andrew grabbed hold of Warren for support.

Then it happened.

Millions of letters poured out through the chimney like a fountain of envelopes. Spikey's eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet, grabbing every letter that he could possibly get his hands on. Soon after this, Warren also leaped to his feet and ripped every single envelope from Spikey's hands. "We're moving!" he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the rumblings of letters still flying in the air. 

"We'll move far away from here where they'll never find us!"


End file.
